Once Upon a Summer Evening
by SociallyDriven
Summary: When one loses a best friend, one cannot help but try to talk to someone about one's unbearable pain. The relationship bewteen patient and psychiatrist. Very emotional. Hell, no fluff! R


He found her lying again on the grass, gazing at the stars. He walked towards her then sat beside her. She spoke.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice, it suited the scenery above. Littered with sparkles, unreachable.

"Ran out of inspiration again."

"For what?"

"For continuing this bloody sodding war."

"Oh." Silence. "You didn't answer my first question."

"I know."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to get inspiration."

She raised an eyebrow. "From where exactly?"

There was a pause. She could tell by the look on his face that he's contemplating on what to tell her. Then he let out a long sigh and whispered, "From you."

"Me?"

"Well actually, it's not _you_, it's the words uttered by you." A small smile appeared on his lips. "They're … exceptional. Your words. They are so weaved carefully together, yet it seems so effortless when you use them. You could've heard the words used many times, in many ways, yet when you use them, it's like a whole new thing, your very own."

She smiled a little. "It's called baring my soul."

They plunged into calm silence again. They had a few minutes of stargazing when a question slipped into the stillness.

"So, how is she?"

"The last time I checked, she's doing fine." Anyone who would've heard her would think that she was unaffected or just clearly bored of the topic, but he knew she was depressed. He could sense it in the words she used.

"So she's still not hanging out with you, huh?"

"Ding, ding, ding. Jackpot."

"You don't seem much affected by it. I mean, she has been your best friend for like three years already."

"I am affected. I just don't want to show it." Then in barely a whisper she said, "Even if I want to, I can't."

He looked at her. She was staring directly at the velvety glittering sky.

"What do you mean?" He was so concentrated on her that he didn't even notice that he was already whispering.

"Whenever I see her hanging out with … _them_, I couldn't help but to feel jealous. And then jealousy turns into sadness, then sadness goes deeper into total depression.

"I would ask myself, why would she start hanging out with someone else? Did she find me boring all of a sudden? Or did she just find someone more interesting? Someone who was actually _similar _to her. 'Cause Ginny and I, we were complete opposites. In interests, in opinions, in talents, in social standing, everything. And yet, we were the _best_ of friends. Most wondered why we were such close friends, … sometimes I did too."

She took out a long breath. "Just listen to me, already talking about her, about our friendship, as if it's already over. So sad isn't it? But maybe I'm just doing the proper thing. I mean, would you consider someone your best friend if you keep on spending time with other people and not you?

"Sometimes, I even feel kind of afraid, 'cause I'd wonder if she told her deepest secrets to someone other than me. If she ever did, I'd be heartbroken. I consider myself special to her because I am – or was, I dunno – the only person who knew of her secrets, her problems. They may not be so important globally, but her giving me her full trust by telling me some things about her most people don't know, it was kind of a seal, a ceremony that stated we would be best friends forever." She held her hand upwards, all five fingers spread out. Another small smile appeared on her lips. But this was sad smile, so different from the first one.

"I hold a part of her that no one else could seize, and she holds a part of me no one else could ever see. We were each other's secret keeper." She closed her hand and she let it fall down on the grass with a thump.

"Thinking of all those things, it makes me want to cry. But that's the problem, I can't. I'm on the verge of sobbing but no tears would run down my eyes. I would find it easier to just let it be. To just ignore it. To not deal with these feelings.

"I have built a wall, something I have perfected along the years. A wall that could restrain the flow of my emotions. That wall had helped me maintain a calm mind, and helped me keep my rational thinking. I have never thought that it would backfire …

"Now I feel all of these … _emotions_ brimming over and I feel like any minute I would burst up inside. I try to break down the wall, but I can't. I don't know how. I have become a captive of my own doing. I feel so disabled.

"Now, I could only cry through my writings. Thank God for writing. It has become my lifeline nowadays. But sometimes, I couldn't help but laugh a little. I mean, words written on paper actually _crying_? Silly, yet somehow so true."

Then a third cloak of silence hovered over them. Her face was left with a sober, yet sad expression. She was still looking up at the stars; he was still looking at her. But it was not awkward. It was never awkward when he was with her.

As he looks at her, he couldn't help but to be a little envious of her passion. She has the magic to put into right words the exact emotions that a person is feeling. Her words, they were mesmerizing.

Once again, she spoke.

"Yet again, another downpour." She turned her head and looked at him. "Don't you get tired of hearing me rant all of this useless stuff?"

"No, I don't. I like hearing you 'rant all of that useless stuff' as you put it. Believe it or not, it's quite refreshing. Plus I told you, I need inspiration."

"Well, did you get it?"

"I did."

"Good. Glad to be of help." She looked back at the stars. Sometimes he envies the stars also, the way she always looks at them every night and instead of him.

"Hey,"

"Yeah?"

She smiled. "Thank you. Again."

"You're welcome."

"Funny, how I always seem to be the troubled patient, lying down, talking rubbish, and you the calm, observant psychiatrist, sitting very still and listening to all my nonsense talking."

He smiled too. "Yeah well, hearing everything you had to say, sometimes I think it's the other way around."

She smiled fully, closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

"Are you feeling better now my little deranged patient?"

"Quite my overly sardonic psychiatrist."

"Good."

"Good."

His smile widened a little bit more. If being a psychiatrist so happens to be listening to her rant all day long then see her smile at the end of it all, he'd think it's the best job in the world.

a/n: guess who the two characters are! Hint: The patient has curly brown hair and the shrink might as well be called a carrot top. XD. The story is that the patient and Ginny became best friends but then Ginny drifted off without a reason and the patient was left alone with all the confusion. I didn't know how to write the story and just didn't want a chaptered fic, so I just started the story at the Burrow (--another hint!--). That's all! R&R please! Free cookies for those who'll get it!


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